A Ray of Light in the Sea of Darkness
by Jaded Betty
Summary: What if Harry Potter fails and the world is plunged into total darkness? Hermione laughed. That could never happen. But there was a quiver in her voice as she said that.
1. One

The Gryffindor common room was deserted except for four people. They sat huddled around a table in the far corner of the room, where shadows made by the dying fire played across their faces. They spoke in hurried whispers and the air around them was tense. Outside it was a cool and silent night, illuminated by a large, full moon. As the moon rose higher over head, the people at the table began to grow more anxious. Their speech grew more rapid more worried. Suddenly there was a great silence so strong that you could hear your own heart beat. Then someone spoke aloud, "What if Harry Potter failed and the world was plunged into total darkness?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, right. That will never happen." But everyone at the table could hear the quiver in her voice as she spoke.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"That will never happen." These words rocketed back and forth in Hermione's mind just as the tennis ball rocketed back and forth across the court. The sun was beating down on her burnt shoulders and the scene in the Gryffindor common room ten years ago was beating through her brain. "Why did I say that?" she asked herself.  
  
A tennis ball came whirring over the net. It was just out of reach. She ran to get the ball and then sent it back over the net with heavy slice. It came back much more slowly just as she was shuffling back to the center. She ran up to the net to get the ball; she got to it and slammed it back over. She reached her hand up to wipe sweat and tears out of her eyes, thinking that this was the end of the point. It wasn't, though. A split second later it the ball was a few feet above her head; by the time it would be low enough to reach, it would be behind her. Hermione, being the seasoned tennis player that she is, scissor-kicked into the air and caught the ball on its way down, sending it back across the net once again. She didn't get the power on it that she wanted, however, so it came right back, several feet out of reach and on her backhand side. She ran sideways and stuck out her racquet to hit the ball and slammed it right into the net. "Shit!" she yelled, throwing down her racquet.  
  
Her husband and opponent approached the net. "That's my game," he said, smiling. His tone changed when he reached the net and saw that Hermione wasn't smiling back. "You're distracted, aren't you?" he asked.  
  
"You don't know the half of it, Jeffrey," she replied.  
  
Jeffrey reached over the net and put his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Listen," he said, "if this has to do with Lord What's-His-Mort, then I don't want you to worry."  
  
"Not worry?" Hermione asked. "How can I not worry? The whole wizarding world is in danger! Or at least the whole of Europe!"  
  
"If something happens to the wizards in Europe, we can move to the United States. I don't want you to worry like this. It's not good for our marriage."  
  
Hermione could think of a thousand things she would have liked to say to Jeffrey at that moment, but she didn't get to say a single one of them. Just then, two broomsticks appeared in the sky, and within seconds they had landed on the tennis court. One of them was driven by a frazzled looking Ginny Weasley, who dismounted immediately and rushed to hug Hermione.  
  
"Did you get my owl?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," said Hermione.  
  
Ginny stood back and eyed Hermione. "It's been a long time," she said with tears in her eyes.  
  
Hermione replied, "It has."  
  
After a moment, Hermione turned her attention to the person on the other broomstick. "Ron," she said quietly. "Back from California?"  
  
Ron didn't quite meet Hermione's eyes when he said, "Yes."  
  
Jeffrey put his hand out to shake Ron's. "Jeffrey Walters," he said. "Pleased to meet you." Ron shook Jeffrey's hand, introduced Ginny, and then turned back to Hermione. "You had better go get ready," he said. "We're supposed to be there in an hour."  
  
"Right," said Hermione. She leaned her racquet up against the net and headed for the house.  
  
"I'll come with you," said Ginny. "I'd like to catch up. We haven't spoken in ages!"  
  
Fifty-two minutes later, Hermione came out onto the porch in robes of crimson, her hair piled on top of her head and her wand in her hand. Ginny followed. Jeffrey and Ron were sitting in lawn chairs drinking martinis when the girls emerged. "You have a lovely husband, Hermione," Ron said loudly, "even though he is a Muggle." Hermione turned the color of her robes and Ginny snapped, "Come on, Ron, we're going to be late!"  
  
Ron stood up and shook hands with Jeffrey once again. "Goodbye, old chap," he said, before vanishing into thin air.  
  
Ginny was next. "You know where to go," she told Hermione. "I'll meet you." Ginny, too, disappeared with a small crack.  
  
Hermione turned to her husband. "Tatyana will be home from dance in an hour," she said. "And if I'm not home tonight I'll be back by morning." She leaned forward to give Jeff a kiss. Just as her mouth was nearing his, he jerked his head upward and she kissed his chin. Irritated, she grabbed Ron's half-full martini glass, drank the entire contents in one gulp, and with a swish of her cloak, she was gone.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The blood rushed to her head as Hermione came to a shrieking halt and found herself standing in an open field with Ginny, Ron, and several other witches and wizards. Susan Bones, a girl from Hermione's graduating class, gave a sympathetic wave in their direction.  
"Let's go," said Ginny. Ginny pointed ahead of her; in the distance stood Hogwarts Castle. Hermione hadn't been in Hogwarts in ten years, and seeing it again made a rush of memories and emotions surge through her body and mind like a powerful electrical current. Ginny saw how Hermione was feeling and said, "It's all right. We'll just walk slowly." Hermione nodded and stood between Ron and Ginny. The three of them walked deliberately up the winding road to the great castle.  
  
They approached the door together and it creaked open lethargically. They were met by an exhausted, puffy-eyed Professor McGonagall who croaked out the words, "Welcome to Hogwarts," before bringing her lace handkerchief to her eyes. Hermione looked around the entrance hall. It was as if ten years had never happened. It looked exactly the same as it had when Hermione was a student at Hogwarts herself. School had not yet begun for that year, so there were no students, but aside from that, Hogwarts had not changed a bit.  
  
"They're all in the chapel," Professor McGonagall said wearily, waving her arm in the direction of a back door. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny followed a group of former Hufflepuffs out into the grounds and into the tiny chapel. Though the chapel was only ten years old, it was built to look as old as the rest of Hogwarts. It was also enchanted so that however full it was, it could always hold one more person. This allowed the thousands of people that were gathered at Hogwarts that day to all fit comfortably inside.  
  
When the three of them entered, the whole place hushed. To the sound of silence, they proceeded down the aisle and into the front row. They looked ahead of them at a stone grave marker that sat on a plot of grass inside the chapel. There was a hole cut in the ceiling directly above the gravestone, and light shined through it, illuminating the engraved words:  
Rest in Peace  
  
Harry Potter  
  
1980-1998  
  
A squat little priest then appeared at the altar, which stood on a raised platform behind the headstone. He, like everyone else in the chapel, had been crying. He cleared his throat and said, "We gather here today to not only remember the death of Harry Potter, but to celebrate his life. God gave him life so that we may live another seventeen years in peace. Harry's life was not just a gift and a blessing, but it was hope! It was a ray of light in a sea of darkness!" At this, he gestured toward the sunlight streaming through the hole in the top of the chapel. "It gave us wizards something to hope for, something to live for." He paused. "But now that Harry is no longer with us, we should not give up hope! Now, more than ever, we need hope! We must gather together to fight against evil! Harry Potter died to save a civilization. We must honor Harry Potter." There was a moment of silence. Then the priest said, "Let us pray," and the service commenced.  
  
Forty minutes later, everyone filed out of the chapel and across the grounds. Hermione vaguely heard people talking about how there would be a banquet in the Great Hall. Hermione wasn't in the mood for a banquet though. She walked around the other side of a chapel toward a particularly old and gnarled tree. Ginny followed. Ron started to follow too, but Ginny turned and said, "You go on to the castle. We'll be up in a few minutes." Ron hesitated, and then turned around and headed for Hogwarts.  
  
There was a bench near the trees that Hermione used to frequent during her Hogwarts days. She always went there by herself when she was troubled and needed to work something out. She approached the bench on the other side of the tree and found there was someone sitting on it. The frail creature sobbing on the bench turned her ashen face to look at Hermione and Ginny. "Oh, Luna," Hermione said hoarsely.  
  
Luna Lovegood was a wreck. Her face was stained with tears, here eyes bloodshot, her long hair dirty and unkempt. "Ginny," she whispered. "Hermione."  
  
"Why weren't you at the service?" Hermione asked.  
  
Luna turned her sad, protuberant eyes on Hermione. She didn't answer; she just looked at the bench, perhaps indicating for Hermione and Ginny to sit down.  
  
"Oh, poor Luna," Ginny said, reaching to touch Luna's hand. A diamond ring glistened on the emaciated hand. "Harry's still with us. Do you want us to take you up to see him?" Luna's eyes welled up with tears. She grabbed Ginny's hand, sinking her fingernails into the soft flesh. "Luna, no!" yelped Ginny. Luna let go and sunk to the ground, sobbing hard.  
  
"What should we do?" Hermione asked Ginny. Ginny looked frantic. Luna continued to sob and kick the ground like a child.  
  
"Let's get her into the castle. Maybe we can get her something to calm her down."  
  
"No!" shrieked Luna. "I'll not go anywhere! No!"  
  
"Petrificus totalus," said Hermione. Then she lifted Luna's feet while Ginny took her arms and they carried the still body into the castle. They carried her past the Great Hall and down several corridors before walking into an unlocked classroom. They laid Luna down over a few desks. "You go get something for her," Hermione told Ginny, "and I'll revive her."  
  
Ginny left the room and Hermione stood over Luna. "Enervate," she said. Luna's eyes bulged bigger than they already were and she sat up and put her hands around Hermione's neck. "Oh, Luna," Hermione whispered as he carried her over to a moth-eaten armchair in the back of the room. "Calm down."  
  
Ginny arrived a moment later with a bottle of scotch and three glasses. She poured three glasses and gave one each to Luna and Hermione and drank one herself. "You should fell better after this," she told Luna. Luna drank the scotch and nodded. She turned to Ginny and smiled weakly. Ginny smiled back and took Luna's hand in hers. She saw that the diamond ring was loose around her bony, chalk white finger. There were scars in the pasty wrists where Luna might have tried to kill herself. Ginny sat and held Luna's hands in hers while Luna stared, unblinkingly, at Ginny. "Do you want to talk now?" Ginny asked softly.  
  
"No," said Luna. "Could you just sit here with me?"  
  
"Yes, just calm down," said Ginny.  
  
Hermione finished her glass of scotch and poured herself another one. Just as she was getting ready to pour her third glass, there was a raspy coughing noise coming from down the hallway. "I'll check what that is," said Hermione. She got up and ran out into the hall. She noticed the noise was coming from the next room. She sidled up against the door and pushed on it slowly. It swung open a few inches and Hermione saw what was inside: Albus Dumbledore was lying sick in a bed. 


	2. Two

Hermione gasped at the sight. She recognized that the sick man dying in bed was indeed former Hogwarts Headmaster Professor Dumbledore. She couldn't bear to look at the wan, gaunt, waxy face covered in a straggly beard that was falling out in patches, and the vacant, pale gray eyes that stared at nothing. She instead imagined the Dumbledore she knew from her days at Hogwarts; she saw the tall, noble man with the long, shimmering hair and beard and twinkling blue eyes. To see Dumbledore in such a terrible state deeply disturbed Hermione. Her head was spinning with wild emotion as she silently shut the door. She hurried back to Luna and Ginny, thoughts and memories whirring about her brain at top speed.  
One particular scene kept reappearing in her mind during the short walk into the next room: It was Hermione's third year at Hogwarts; she was fourteen. She saw Dumbledore's face, plain as day. "Three turns should do it," he had said. "Three turns should do it."  
Hermione reached the classroom Luna and Ginny were in and flung open the door. The last thing she saw was Ginny leaping from her position in an armchair and rushing towards her, before Hermione fell to the floor in a dead faint.  
She came to moments later, with Ginny standing above her and pointing the illuminated end of a wand in her eye. "What happened?" Ginny asked.  
Hermione sat up and took a swallow of scotch. "Dumbledore," she said. "He's sick. Dying. He's in a bed over there. All alone." Ginny helped her over to a chair and sat down on a desk opposite her. She looked concerned.  
"Are you sure?" asked Ginny. "I mean I knew he retired seven years ago and McGonagall took over, but I didn't know he was sick."  
"It's true," said a small voice coming from the other armchair. Ginny and Hermione started. "Luna?" Hermione gasped. Luna sat low in the oversized chair. She stared into space as she clutched her glass with her skeletal fingers. The diamond glistened in the afternoon sunlight that shone through the window. "It's true," she repeated, dreamily. "It was in the Quibbler ages ago."  
"Really?" asked Hermione. "What does he have? How long as he been like this?"  
Luna took a deep, rattling breath. "He hasn't really been well for a long time. Not since," she broke off and Hermione knew what Luna's next words would be, "Harry died." Luna could not continue. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but her large eyes filled with tears. Her glass dropped to the ground and shattered, spilling liquid on the faded carpet. She brought up her hands and yanked hard on the hair hanging limply about her face as she moaned in pain and sorrow. Hermione stood up and started pacing the room frantically, trying to find an escape, a salvation, but she could not. Only Ginny remained calm.  
"It's all right, Luna," she said. The soothing manner of her voice seemed to have a sort of healing power over Luna, who was now whimpering and sniffling, her hands caught in her tangled hair. "Come on, Luna. Let's go get something to eat. You look starved."  
Luna nodded and wiped her eyes. "I'm so glad you're my friend, Ginny. If I didn't have you I don't know how I'd -" She gasped for breath and, within a second, regained her composure. "Yeah, let's go get something to eat."  
Hermione, who had finished the last of the scotch, said, "I agree. We can.talk to people. It can.get our mind off.some stuff."  
Ginny nodded. "Let's go," she said. The three girls walked together out of the classroom, down the corridor, and into the Great Hall. Once again, Hermione noted, they were greeted with silence.  
The Great Hall was large and dark. It was not set up with four House tables and the High Table, but rather there were several smaller tables scattered about the room. Hermione noticed Fred and George Weasley who were sitting at a table, conversing quietly with their wives Parvati and Padma. How cute it is, thought Hermione, that twins should marry twins. The whole lineup of the Gryffindor Quidditch team from third year was sitting there as well. minus one, of course. "Hello Hermione," Fred said softly.  
"Hey everyone. It's very nice to see you all." Parvati sniffled and smiled at Hermione.  
"It's been a long time, Hermione," Padma said.  
George nodded in the direction of another table where Ron sat with several other former Gryffindors. Hermione nodded back and made her way towards Ron's table.  
"Oy," shouted a voice from the other end of the room. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all turned to look. It was Michael Corner. "Ginny! Luna!" he yelled. "I have seats at my table!"  
Ginny looked at Hermione. "You go on ahead," Hermione said. "I'll sit with Ron." Ginny smiled gratefully at Hermione and took Luna's hand. Hermione whispered, "Will she be all right?"  
Ginny looked at Luna who was staring at her fingernails. "Oh yes," said Ginny. "As soon as we start talking about other things, she'll be back to her old self."  
Hermione remembered Luna's old self perfectly. She never was exactly normal. She was always staring into space, speaking at the most unusual times, making up tall tales and believing them. Hermione was very worried about Luna. She had never seen a person so utterly distraught as the fragile being Ginny now half-carried across the Great Hall. Hermione's eyes got misty as she remembered the Luna she used to know, and regretted ever abandoning her friends in the first place.  
She sniffled once, and before she knew it, she was sobbing. Her shoulders shook with the sorrow she was feeling and tears streamed out of her eyes and down her face. She didn't bother to wipe them away; she just stood in the middle of the Great Hall, hands at her sides, noiselessly crying her eyes out. Finally, someone noticed what she was doing and got up to console her.  
"It's all right, 'Mione," said Ron. He put his large, masculine arm around her thin body. "Calm down," he whispered. "I know how it feels to lose a best friend like that. I don't know that this memorial service was such a great idea. It's bringing out the worst in everybody."  
Hermione turned to face Ron, and, still crying, buried her face in his robes.  
"Come on, Hermione. Let's go sit down." Hermione nodded and dabbed at her face with a handkerchief she had found inside her pocket. She allowed Ron to lead her over to the table.  
Hermione sat down between Ron and Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnegan, and Lavender Brown were there as well. "Have some food, Hermione," said Lavender.  
"Thank you." Hermione helped herself to some mashed potatoes and roast lamb, and began to eat hungrily. "Excuse me," she said, "but I haven't eaten all day."  
"It's all right," said Ron. "Could I get you a drink?"  
Hermione nodded, and, looking around the table too see what everyone else had, replied, "Scotch, please."  
"Good choice," said Dean, who was drinking the very same thing. "So, I haven't seen you in a long time. Where have you been?"  
"Here," said Hermione, "in Britain. I have a house just outside of Wales."  
"I bet it's nice."  
Hermione thought of her large, luxurious home with the tennis court and the pool. Then she remembered Ron Weasley's old home from when he lived with his parents, the Burrow. She remembered its tiny rooms with dormers sticking out everywhere and walls held up by magic. "It's all right," she said. "Where do you live?"  
"In London," said Dean. "I have a small flat in an all-wizard complex, so that's nice." Hermione wished she lived in a flat with all wizards. She loved her Muggle husband dearly, but got tired of the Muggle technology, and often found it difficult to keep from her Muggle friends that she is a witch.  
Ron returned an instant later, carrying drinks. "Here you are, 'Mione," he said, setting one down in front of Hermione.  
"Thank you." She took a long sip from her drink. She turned to Lavender and said, "What have you been up to these last ten years?"  
Lavender smiled sheepishly, and then frowned. "Well, I wasted six years of my life trying to further my career as a clairvoyant." She gave an irritable laugh. "No sense in that; I've got no talent. Parvati's the real seer." She turned around to the next table to smile at her friend Parvati.  
"What now?" asked Hermione.  
"I just finished nurse's training last month. I really like it. And they're always looking for more nurses nowadays because." She trailed off. People did a lot of trailing off, Hermione noticed. They wanted not only to spare the listener from the horrible truth that they were living, but also to spare themselves from telling it.  
Hermione smiled kindly and turned toward Seamus, the only person at the table she hadn't talked to. "Still living in Ireland, I suppose?" she inquired.  
"I am," said Seamus, "but I travel a lot for work. I work in the Ministry, you see. I spent the last ten years in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but I just got promoted to the Department of Mysteries." When he saw that everyone had held their breath and were staring at him with wide-eyed fascination, he said, "No, I haven't discovered anything real interesting yet. I'm just new. It'll be awhile before I get to do some real experiments." Everyone exhaled and sat back in their seats. "I have been doing a lot of work for the Order, though," Seamus added brightly.  
"The Order of the Phoenix?" asked Ron, amazed. His parents were in the Order, as were his brothers Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, and his sister Ginny, but he wasn't, and was interested to know how Seamus got in.  
"Yeah," said Seamus. "My mother was a Prewett. She was always too sickly to join the Order, so when I graduated, she sent me to avenge the deaths of her brothers."  
"Well," said Hermione, a bit more anxiously than she intended to, "you're in the Order; did you know that Dumbledore's very sick?"  
Seamus turned ghostly white. "N-no," he answered. "Nobody told me that." He thought a moment. "He has been absent from the last several meetings, though," he added, his heart sinking terribly.  
"I happened to walk into a classroom when I was with Ginny and Luna," said Hermione. "And he was in there - sick in bed!" She watched everyone's eyes widen with terror and disbelief. "He didn't see me," she added.  
"No," Ron laughed nervously. "He's probably faking it to throw off You-Know-Who."  
"Dumbledore wouldn't fake," Lavender said softly. "If Hermione saw him, then he's sick all right."  
Ron gulped. "I was afraid you'd say that."  
"He's Dumbledore, though," said Dean. "He'll get better." And when no one responded, he added, "Won't he?"  
Seamus cleared his throat and said, "The last few Order meetings have been rather, well, nervous. I've never seen Minerva McGonagall fidget so much in my entire life. And Snape -"  
"Snape!" exclaimed Hermione, not allowing Seamus to finish his sentence. "Where is he? I haven't seen him here."  
"He's over there," Ron said, pointing to the far corner of the Great Hall. There sat Snape, his head down, looking at no one. He looked worn and haggard. He barely moved.  
"He knows," whispered Hermione. Seamus nodded in agreement. "I have to go and talk to him."  
"Why?" asked Ron.  
"Because I'm scared! I'm worried about what's going to happen. At home this whole Voldemort thing is easier to handle. I feel somehow severed, and it feels in some way unrealistic. But here I know it's real; Voldemort is real." She fixed her eyes on Ron's in a deep, penetrating gaze. "The scariest thing is the unknown, Ron," she said. "I just hope knowledge will appease.. I'm going off to talk to Snape."  
Ron shook Hermione's hand. "Good luck."  
Hermione stumbled across the room to where Snape was sitting. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "Professor Snape?" she began softly.  
"What is it?" he snapped.  
Hermione was quite taken aback. "I just haven't seen you since graduation and I was wondering how you were doing."  
Snape looked at Hermione with his cold, dark eyes; an expression of utter disgust upon his face. "Why don't you go have a few more drinks, Granger?"  
Hermione got angry. She stood up and tried to fix Snape with the same hard glare he'd just set her. "I have an important question," she demanded.  
"What?" Snape spat.  
"I want to know how Dumbledore is. He's ill, but he didn't tell anyone. Not even members of th-"  
"How did you find out?" Snape roared, standing up. He put his arm out, possibly to hit Hermione, but restrained himself. "Listen, girl. You're not supposed to know. No one is. He'll get better." He sat back down. Hermione, however, was not content. She stood, hovering over Snape like a mad vulture. "That's all I know," Snape muttered. "That's all I can tell you, at any rate."  
"Tell me," said Hermione in a harsh whisper. Snape dared not look up into her livid eyes. Her fists were clenched in anger.  
"Hermione!" cried a voice from across the room. It was Ron. Ron had seen that Hermione's meeting with Snape wasn't going to well, so he ran over to Hermione and led her out of the way. "My apologies, Professor," Ron said to Professor Snape. "Come on, Hermione."  
He hurried Hermione out of the way. "Do you realize what you just did?" he asked, scolding. He saw that Hermione was once again on the verge of tears, so he added, "Come on now. It's getting late. Let's go back to the Burrow, where I'm staying. Mum and Dad won't mind an extra guest."  
Hermione smiled and put her arm in Ron's. The two of them said their goodbyes and took off down the long bath that led to the end of the Hogwarts grounds, where they would be able to aparate back to the Burrow. Hermione smiled in anticipation for reaching her favorite home in the world. 


	3. Three

Hermione gasped at the sight. She recognized that the sick man dying in bed was indeed former Hogwarts Headmaster Professor Dumbledore. She couldn't bear to look at the wan, gaunt, waxy face covered in a straggly beard that was falling out in patches, and the vacant, pale gray eyes that stared at nothing. She instead imagined the Dumbledore she knew from her days at Hogwarts; she saw the tall, noble man with the long, shimmering hair and beard and twinkling blue eyes. To see Dumbledore in such a terrible state deeply disturbed Hermione. Her head was spinning with wild emotion as she silently shut the door. She hurried back to Luna and Ginny, thoughts and memories whirring about her brain at top speed.  
  
One particular scene kept reappearing in her mind during the short walk into the next room: It was Hermione's third year at Hogwarts; she was fourteen. She saw Dumbledore's face, plain as day. "Three turns should do it," he had said. "Three turns should do it."  
  
Hermione reached the classroom Luna and Ginny were in and flung open the door. The last thing she saw was Ginny leaping from her position in an armchair and rushing towards her, before Hermione fell to the floor in a dead faint.  
  
She came to moments later, with Ginny standing above her and pointing the illuminated end of a wand in her eye. "What happened?" Ginny asked.  
  
Hermione sat up and took a swallow of scotch. "Dumbledore," she said. "He's sick. Dying. He's in a bed over there. All alone." Ginny helped her over to a chair and sat down on a desk opposite her. She looked concerned.  
  
"Are you sure?" asked Ginny. "I mean I knew he retired seven years ago and McGonagall took over, but I didn't know he was sick."  
  
"It's true," said a small voice coming from the other armchair. Ginny and Hermione started. "Luna?" Hermione gasped. Luna sat low in the oversized chair. She stared into space as she clutched her glass with her skeletal fingers. The diamond glistened in the afternoon sunlight that shone through the window. "It's true," she repeated, dreamily. "It was in the Quibbler ages ago."  
  
"Really?" asked Hermione. "What does he have? How long as he been like this?"  
  
Luna took a deep, rattling breath. "He hasn't really been well for a long time. Not since," she broke off and Hermione knew what Luna's next words would be, "Harry died." Luna could not continue. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but her large eyes filled with tears. Her glass dropped to the ground and shattered, spilling liquid on the faded carpet. She brought up her hands and yanked hard on the hair hanging limply about her face as she moaned in pain and sorrow. Hermione stood up and started pacing the room frantically, trying to find an escape, a salvation, but she could not. Only Ginny remained calm.  
  
"It's all right, Luna," she said. The soothing manner of her voice seemed to have a sort of healing power over Luna, who was now whimpering and sniffling, her hands caught in her tangled hair. "Come on, Luna. Let's go get something to eat. You look starved."  
  
Luna nodded and wiped her eyes. "I'm so glad you're my friend, Ginny. If I didn't have you I don't know how I'd -" She gasped for breath and, within a second, regained her composure. "Yeah, let's go get something to eat."  
  
Hermione, who had finished the last of the scotch, said, "I agree. We can.talk to people. It can.get our mind off.some stuff."  
  
Ginny nodded. "Let's go," she said. The three girls walked together out of the classroom, down the corridor, and into the Great Hall. Once again, Hermione noted, they were greeted with silence.  
  
The Great Hall was large and dark. It was not set up with four House tables and the High Table, but rather there were several smaller tables scattered about the room. Hermione noticed Fred and George Weasley who were sitting at a table, conversing quietly with their wives Parvati and Padma. How cute it is, thought Hermione, that twins should marry twins. The whole lineup of the Gryffindor Quidditch team from third year was sitting there as well. minus one, of course. "Hello Hermione," Fred said softly.  
  
"Hey everyone. It's very nice to see you all." Parvati sniffled and smiled at Hermione.  
  
"It's been a long time, Hermione," Padma said.  
  
George nodded in the direction of another table where Ron sat with several other former Gryffindors. Hermione nodded back and made her way towards Ron's table.  
  
"Oy," shouted a voice from the other end of the room. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all turned to look. It was Michael Corner. "Ginny! Luna!" he yelled. "I have seats at my table!"  
  
Ginny looked at Hermione. "You go on ahead," Hermione said. "I'll sit with Ron." Ginny smiled gratefully at Hermione and took Luna's hand. Hermione whispered, "Will she be all right?"  
  
Ginny looked at Luna who was staring at her fingernails. "Oh yes," said Ginny. "As soon as we start talking about other things, she'll be back to her old self."  
  
Hermione remembered Luna's old self perfectly. She never was exactly normal. She was always staring into space, speaking at the most unusual times, making up tall tales and believing them. Hermione was very worried about Luna. She had never seen a person so utterly distraught as the fragile being Ginny now half-carried across the Great Hall. Hermione's eyes got misty as she remembered the Luna she used to know, and regretted ever abandoning her friends in the first place.  
  
She sniffled once, and before she knew it, she was sobbing. Her shoulders shook with the sorrow she was feeling and tears streamed out of her eyes and down her face. She didn't bother to wipe them away; she just stood in the middle of the Great Hall, hands at her sides, noiselessly crying her eyes out. Finally, someone noticed what she was doing and got up to console her.  
  
"It's all right, 'Mione," said Ron. He put his large, masculine arm around her thin body. "Calm down," he whispered. "I know how it feels to lose a best friend like that. I don't know that this memorial service was such a great idea. It's bringing out the worst in everybody."  
  
Hermione turned to face Ron, and, still crying, buried her face in his robes.  
  
"Come on, Hermione. Let's go sit down." Hermione nodded and dabbed at her face with a handkerchief she had found inside her pocket. She allowed Ron to lead her over to the table.  
  
Hermione sat down between Ron and Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnegan, and Lavender Brown were there as well. "Have some food, Hermione," said Lavender.  
  
"Thank you." Hermione helped herself to some mashed potatoes and roast lamb, and began to eat hungrily. "Excuse me," she said, "but I haven't eaten all day."  
  
"It's all right," said Ron. "Could I get you a drink?"  
  
Hermione nodded, and, looking around the table too see what everyone else had, replied, "Scotch, please."  
  
"Good choice," said Dean, who was drinking the very same thing. "So, I haven't seen you in a long time. Where have you been?"  
  
"Here," said Hermione, "in Britain. I have a house just outside of Wales."  
  
"I bet it's nice."  
  
Hermione thought of her large, luxurious home with the tennis court and the pool. Then she remembered Ron Weasley's old home from when he lived with his parents, the Burrow. She remembered its tiny rooms with dormers sticking out everywhere and walls held up by magic. "It's all right," she said. "Where do you live?"  
  
"In London," said Dean. "I have a small flat in an all-wizard complex, so that's nice." Hermione wished she lived in a flat with all wizards. She loved her Muggle husband dearly, but got tired of the Muggle technology, and often found it difficult to keep from her Muggle friends that she is a witch.  
  
Ron returned an instant later, carrying drinks. "Here you are, 'Mione," he said, setting one down in front of Hermione.  
  
"Thank you." She took a long sip from her drink. She turned to Lavender and said, "What have you been up to these last ten years?"  
  
Lavender smiled sheepishly, and then frowned. "Well, I wasted six years of my life trying to further my career as a clairvoyant." She gave an irritable laugh. "No sense in that; I've got no talent. Parvati's the real seer." She turned around to the next table to smile at her friend Parvati.  
  
"What now?" asked Hermione.  
  
"I just finished nurse's training last month. I really like it. And they're always looking for more nurses nowadays because." She trailed off. People did a lot of trailing off, Hermione noticed. They wanted not only to spare the listener from the horrible truth that they were living, but also to spare themselves from telling it.  
  
Hermione smiled kindly and turned toward Seamus, the only person at the table she hadn't talked to. "Still living in Ireland, I suppose?" she inquired.  
  
"I am," said Seamus, "but I travel a lot for work. I work in the Ministry, you see. I spent the last ten years in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but I just got promoted to the Department of Mysteries." When he saw that everyone had held their breath and were staring at him with wide- eyed fascination, he said, "No, I haven't discovered anything real interesting yet. I'm just new. It'll be awhile before I get to do some real experiments." Everyone exhaled and sat back in their seats. "I have been doing a lot of work for the Order, though," Seamus added brightly.  
  
"The Order of the Phoenix?" asked Ron, amazed. His parents were in the Order, as were his brothers Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, and his sister Ginny, but he wasn't, and was interested to know how Seamus got in.  
  
"Yeah," said Seamus. "My mother was a Prewett. She was always too sickly to join the Order, so when I graduated, she sent me to avenge the deaths of her brothers."  
  
"Well," said Hermione, a bit more anxiously than she intended to, "you're in the Order; did you know that Dumbledore's very sick?"  
  
Seamus turned ghostly white. "N-no," he answered. "Nobody told me that." He thought a moment. "He has been absent from the last several meetings, though," he added, his heart sinking terribly.  
  
"I happened to walk into a classroom when I was with Ginny and Luna," said Hermione. "And he was in there - sick in bed!" She watched everyone's eyes widen with terror and disbelief. "He didn't see me," she added.  
  
"No," Ron laughed nervously. "He's probably faking it to throw off You- Know-Who."  
  
"Dumbledore wouldn't fake," Lavender said softly. "If Hermione saw him, then he's sick all right."  
  
Ron gulped. "I was afraid you'd say that."  
  
"He's Dumbledore, though," said Dean. "He'll get better." And when no one responded, he added, "Won't he?"  
  
Seamus cleared his throat and said, "The last few Order meetings have been rather, well, nervous. I've never seen Minerva McGonagall fidget so much in my entire life. And Snape -"  
  
"Snape!" exclaimed Hermione, not allowing Seamus to finish his sentence. "Where is he? I haven't seen him here."  
  
"He's over there," Ron said, pointing to the far corner of the Great Hall. There sat Snape, his head down, looking at no one. He looked worn and haggard. He barely moved.  
  
"He knows," whispered Hermione. Seamus nodded in agreement. "I have to go and talk to him."  
  
"Why?" asked Ron.  
  
"Because I'm scared! I'm worried about what's going to happen. At home this whole Voldemort thing is easier to handle. I feel somehow severed, and it feels in some way unrealistic. But here I know it's real; Voldemort is real." She fixed her eyes on Ron's in a deep, penetrating gaze. "The scariest thing is the unknown, Ron," she said. "I just hope knowledge will appease.. I'm going off to talk to Snape."  
  
Ron shook Hermione's hand. "Good luck."  
  
Hermione stumbled across the room to where Snape was sitting. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "Professor Snape?" she began softly.  
  
"What is it?" he snapped.  
  
Hermione was quite taken aback. "I just haven't seen you since graduation and I was wondering how you were doing."  
  
Snape looked at Hermione with his cold, dark eyes; an expression of utter disgust upon his face. "Why don't you go have a few more drinks, Granger?"  
  
Hermione got angry. She stood up and tried to fix Snape with the same hard glare he'd just set her. "I have an important question," she demanded.  
  
"What?" Snape spat.  
  
"I want to know how Dumbledore is. He's ill, but he didn't tell anyone. Not even members of th-"  
  
"How did you find out?" Snape roared, standing up. He put his arm out, possibly to hit Hermione, but restrained himself. "Listen, girl. You're not supposed to know. No one is. He'll get better." He sat back down. Hermione, however, was not content. She stood, hovering over Snape like a mad vulture. "That's all I know," Snape muttered. "That's all I can tell you, at any rate."  
  
"Tell me," said Hermione in a harsh whisper. Snape dared not look up into her livid eyes. Her fists were clenched in anger.  
  
"Hermione!" cried a voice from across the room. It was Ron. Ron had seen that Hermione's meeting with Snape wasn't going to well, so he ran over to Hermione and led her out of the way. "My apologies, Professor," Ron said to Professor Snape. "Come on, Hermione."  
  
He hurried Hermione out of the way. "Do you realize what you just did?" he asked, scolding. He saw that Hermione was once again on the verge of tears, so he added, "Come on now. It's getting late. Let's go back to the Burrow, where I'm staying. Mum and Dad won't mind an extra guest."  
  
Hermione smiled and put her arm in Ron's. The two of them said their goodbyes and took off down the long bath that led to the end of the Hogwarts grounds, where they would be able to aparate back to the Burrow. Hermione smiled in anticipation for reaching her favorite home in the world. 


End file.
